


humanum est.

by infinitejcst



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Family, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, One Big Happy Family, Other, Parent!Connor, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitejcst/pseuds/infinitejcst
Summary: Connor’s mission on August 15th, 2038 is to save Emma Phillips at all costs. He arrives at the scene at 8:29pm, surveys the Phillips’ apartment, notes down the deceased (one Anthony Deckart, one Caroline Phillips, and one John Phillips), before he eventually defuses the situation. His mission accomplished, he thinks there would be nothing more of it and awaits his next assignment.Little does he know that saving Emma Phillips would soon include taking care of her as well. A ham-fisted law made under pressure from public opinion gives him the responsibility of being the guardian of the recently orphaned Emma. It is difficult, at first, but adapting to human unpredictability is Connor's best feature, and soon he is adapting a littletoowell.It would be the first drop in what would soon become the changing tides of history, for what is the ocean but a multitude of drops? Connor changes, and the whole world changes with him.——— or, an orphaned emma phillips paves the way for connor (and the world) to be human





	1. The Hostage

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was brought to you by my insatiable need for parent!connor fic and my inability to find any.
> 
> hopefully, i've somewhat filled in at least PART of the gaps.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DEFINE: sympathise
> 
> sympathise (v.)
> 
> feel or express sympathy
> 
> DEFINE: sympathy
> 
> sympathy (n.)
> 
> feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else's misfortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please see the endnotes if u wanna read a brief note about how this whole au's timeline is set up.
> 
> also, heads-up: i've never actually played the game. i've just watched an LP and i fixated on connor and i was like skjfhkjash BOIIIII so. yeah. 
> 
> hopefully, though, i still got a good grasp on their characters.

** 8:29pm // 15.08.2038. **

Initialising Systems… 

0%

38% 

51%

80% 

100%

SYSTEM INITIALISED. 

 

——————ALERT!——————

ALERT: New objective assigned.

OBJECTIVE: SAVE EMMA PHILLIPS.

——————ALERT!——————

 

Choose Mode:

[>] The Investigator

> The Officer

> The Negotiator

> The Interrogator

> The Assassin

> [LOCKED]

 

INVESTIGATOR role selected. Confirm?

[>] Y / N

——

The coin was tossed high into the air, then landed onto his palm, before he tossed it once more. The gentle _clink_ s of the coin as he played with it almost coincided with the sounds the elevator made while going up, and even he could appreciate the the smooth harmony of everything falling together—even if only from a purely calculating sense. He repeated the trick numerous times and slowly moved his way towards more and more complex tricks, balancing the coin with his knuckles before tossing it side to side from one hand to the other. 

SYSTEMS CALIBRATED.

He continued tossing the coin, his eyes carefully fixed on the elevator indicator as it lifted him higher in the building, until he eventually arrived at the 70th floor, the scene of his mission. He pocketed the coin. 

~~ (It was always the same coin.) ~~

“Negotiator on site,” the officer who was waiting for him said. He identified it as Detroit Police Department Officer Martin Desguerres, 27 years old. Desguerres ran to alert his colleagues and Connor was left to follow the man into the main apartment. He assessed his environment as he walked: the family picture on top of the desk (one man, one woman, and one female child—Emma?), the fish that was dying on the floor (Dwarf gourami, native to South Asia), and the bonsai fixture and the gardening embellishments that were featured on the wall (costing some good money in interior decorating—conclusion: upper-class).

The DPD set up shop in the master bedroom, and Connor made his way there. He was to report to one Captain John Allen for his briefing. He scanned the faces in the room, nothing more than a cursory search, but it was the visual input he received from his optical units that made him recognise the man more than the visual scanner and facial ID system. The man was pacing, muttering to himself (his aural processors could pick up a faint mutter of _fucking damned androids_ ), and this, more than anything else, caught Connor’s attention.

“Captain Allen?” he queried. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

He was ignored. Capt. Allen rolled his eyes at the android and turned his attention towards the security officer, who was busy trying to hack into the offending android’s systems remotely. Connor wanted to say that there was no way to hack into any CyberLife android remotely unless the officer himself was part of CyberLife but chose to say nothing instead.

“The android's got the girl with it,” Allen informed him, after some time and almost quite unwillingly. “It's standing on the edge of the ledge. We've got our sights on the fucking thing and we could shoot it anytime, but we're afraid that it would take the girl with it when it falls.”

His systems tried to calculate the best approach. Negotiations worked best if one party had more information than the other party. So far he had nothing. It would be best if he tried to remedy that.

[>] ASK ANDROID’S NAME.

“What does it matter?” said Allen dismissively.

Connor blinked. He tried again with a different route. He considered asking if they tried for the deactivation code but his system calculations told him that was probably the first thing they—or anyone, for that matter—would do in this situation. The failed deactivation code then confirmed his suspicions why he was sent here, because why send an android to negotiate when they could have sent a human instead?

The android had deviated, that much was clear. Connor’s task was to hunt down and neutralise deviants. Thus, he must neutralise this android, whatever the cost, because he _always_ fulfilled his mission.

The possibility was high, indeed almost certain considering the state-of-the-art computing processors that was installed in him, but considering his programming as an android, he still looked to the Capt. Allen for confirmation.

[>] ENQUIRE ABOUT ANDROID’S PREVIOUS BEHAVIOUR.

His enquiry, however, was shot down quickly. “I don’t have the fucking time to play twenty questions,” said Capt. Allen. “You go in there and do your thing, and you better fucking succeed because if you fail and that little girl dies, I swear to God, we are going to riddle that piece of shit plastic's inanimate body with bullets and raise hell against all of your damn kind. Then just for icing in the cake”—here, the captain stepped up in front of Connor, his finger poking at Connor’s chest, who registered the sensation merely as bytes of information ( _fingerprint analysed, blood pressure measured, pulse recorded_ )—“we’re gonna shoot you in the head too.” The captain raised his finger and pointed exactly at the centre of Connor’s forehead. "Right _fucking_ here. State-of-the-art prototype or not.”

The captain walked out of the room in a huff, and Connor was left standing alone. He took a quick scan of the room before formally starting his investigation. He started from the bedroom—what must have formerly been the master bedroom, but the words probably mean nothing now that the masters are dead—and made his way from there. He surmised that the android stole the gun from the father's cabinet. 

When he walked out of the master bedroom, the hostage’s bedroom was almost right next door, almost orderly in comparison. Music had been playing on the headphones dropped on the floor, music loud enough to cover gunshots, which meant that she was probably taken unawares. The hostage probably didn't even know her parents were dead until the deviant dragged her outside of her room and she had to see with her own eyes their dead bodies strewn on the floor. On the desk was a tablet, paused in the middle of a video which he resumed.

The android’s name was Daniel. 

He went out of the hostage's room and continued his investigation. The kitchen, dining area, and living area were messy, three bodies scattered all over the place, their blood (which would days to clean off) staining the flooring. He could pick up whispers of expressions resembling disgust and revulsion (for androids, no doubt) from some of the officers, most of them huddled backing off from the scene of the crime now that he was here. Connor quickly surmised that the father, John Phillips, had been the first to die. His face wore an expression which Connor, using his database, identified as matching that of surprise. His hand laid outstretched. 

The father had been holding something when he died.

That something was a tablet, hidden underneath the shelves. Connor bent down and reached for the tablet, unlocking the device. He was immediately greeted with a ‘ _Hello, thank you for ordering your new AP700. The android will arrive soon at your home. CyberLife thanks you for your patronage._ ’

Connor blinked. He wondered what model the old domestic android was that it necessitated him to be replaced, as his owners duly saw fit.

No matter. The investigation was still at hand. The next body he analysed was that of Anthony Deckart, the first police officer to arrive on the scene. It was a bullet straight to the heart. Quick. ~~_Merciful_~~. Precise. Only an android could shoot that precisely. Connor fixed his eyes from the dead body on the floor to the gun he knew was under the table, pocketing it just in case he needed it.

The next body was the mother’s, Caroline Phillips. Judging from the way she was positioned, and the pot that was near to boiling, she had been preparing a late family dinner when the android shot her husband. The way her hand reached out to something that was now beyond her made it clear that she was running to the direction of her daughter, perhaps in an effort to save the girl. She was shot in the back, the bullet going through the heart. It was a quick death.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot then shouts coming from the officers. Connor turned, wondering if he failed his objective already, but then he saw an injured officer being dragged out into the living area and was relieved for a split-second's time before he promptly labelled the other officers as inconveniences to his mission objective. The fact that the other officers were trying to go in despite his presence meant that  he should probably step in now. If he didn’t, the android would be further destabilised by all the ruckus happening, risking the life of the hostage. He couldn't let that happen.

Connor stepped forward and looked out from the living area into the balcony, pushing the blinds aside. The android was standing at the very edge, the girl seemingly weightless in his arms. He was shouting at the officers to stay back, doubtless fired up from the recent exchange.

The RK800's LED whirred yellow.

——

CHANGE MODE.

 

Choose Mode:

> The Investigator

> The Officer

[>] The Negotiator

> The Interrogator

> The Assassin

> [LOCKED]

 

NEGOTIATOR role selected. Confirm?

[>] Y / N

—— 

Connor stepped out into the balcony and got shot immediately.

—— 

WARNING: SYSTEMS DAMAGED.

Assessing threat level…

Threat level: minimal

Initiating self-repair sequence now.

——

“Hello, Daniel,” said Connor, barely paying any attention to the fact that a bullet just grazed his arm. “My name is Connor.”

“ _How_ do you know my name?” asked Daniel. 

(Psychological Status of the Deviant: unsettled, restless, _angry_ , **betrayed** , _**hurt**_ —

Connor turned down his emotion-sensitive sensors. Just a bit. He found that it hurt him to process all the information coming from the deviant.)

“I know a lot of things about you, Daniel,” said Connor, raising his hands slowly, his palms showing, mimicking the way human negotiators did it. “Don't worry, I’m going to fix this.”

The deviant android refused to acknowledge Connor's statement, focused as he was on ranting about how the world was unfair and that the family got what they deserved for betraying him. Connor ran a diagnostic test and came back with results showing him that the other android, although injured, was in perfect working order—except, of course, for the deviancy issue. Connor ran another scan, this time focusing on the hostage. There was a scrape on her knee and minor bruising from where the deviant grabbed her arm too tightly, but he ultimately found nothing permanent.  Of course, the physical diagnostics didn’t really scan for any effects of psychological trauma, but that was for another time—and another android.

[>] CALM DEVIANT DOWN.

It didn't work. If anything, it further infuriated the deviant, and matters weren't helped when the helicopter came swooping in, making benches and various poolside paraphernalia come flying through the air. It destabilised the deviant further, making his mission more difficult to accomplish. Connor calculated the beneficial effects and weighed them against future possibilities. The chances of the deviant requesting the helicopter go away was too high for him to wave the chopper away now. The effects of doing an action  _then_ instead of  _now_ would be doubly beneficial.

He stayed his hand.

"Your gun—you have one, d-don't you?" said the deviant.

__/ifLie: Distrust. Fear. An execution.

—\ifTruth: Trust. Calm. A peaceful resolution.

[>] TELL THE TRUTH.

Connor threw away the gun he picked up before starting on his approach once more. "There," he said, throwing his arms back. "Now you're the only one with a gun."

The deviant became even more stable. His breaths became more regular and he wasn't pointing the gun towards Emma as much. "I want a car," he said, his voice a far cry from the crazed shouts of before. "I'll drop her off at the outskirts of the city."

"We can't do that," said Connor. "You know we can't do that. Just let the girl go, and then we can talk."

The deviant didn't stabilise, but neither did he destabilise either. That was overall good for the mission's status.

Connor took another step forward. As he did so, his aural processors picked up faint breathing, very faint, only found in the dying—

He looked to the sides. There, he could see the almost-dead form of a cop, shot through the arm and losing a lot of blood. If no course of action was taken in the next succeeding moments, the officer would die from exsanguination.

Connor knelt down and started taking off his tie. Unbidden, a warning shot rang out, the bullet whizzing past him and almost nicking his earlobe. Connor looked to the deviant questioningly, his sensors registering a dip in the stability of the other android.

"He's losing a lot of blood," he explained slowly to the other android. "He's going to die in four minutes and thirty-three seconds if we don't do anything. We've got to save him."

"We don't  _have_ to do anything!" said the android. "Leave him alone! Humans die all the time so what's one more tonight? What's he to you, huh? Is he worth your _death_?"

ERROR.

"You can't kill me," said Connor simply. "I'm not alive."  ~~ _Nor are you._~~

[>] SAVE THE COP.

The RK800, the series he belonged to, was by no means a medical android line, but being the cutting-edge android in the whole CyberLife line meant that he was equipped with capabilities better than those of any other androids that existed. Downloading the needed medical protocols from the CyberLife cloud was easy and natural to him and, in a couple of seconds, he had the knowledge necessary to save the officer.

The tourniquet applied, Connor stood up and resumed the negotiation process.

[>] MENTION DEVIANT'S HISTORY.

Far from upsetting him, the deviant seemed to find talking cathartic, just as Connor expected. His systems have enabled him to shift through roles at a moment's notice, the shift done in the blink of an eye, and one of his many roles was the NEGOTIATOR, which had a different interface altogether, more attuned to 'tells' than anything else, more a psychologist than a lawyer. There was a snippet of information that floated in his interface that made him think about talk therapy and how it was beneficial for humans.  He didn't quite know what to think about the fact that it seemed to be working for androids too—deviant ones, yes, but still  _androids_ nonetheless.

Very well. If the deviant  _insisted_ on acting human, then Connor was going to use every means necessary to push through this narrative.

[>] MENTION EMMA.

It did the work. The deviant let out all his anger, his  _pain,_ his feelings of  **betrayal.** In a way, it was almost quite curious to Connor— _almost_  because he didn't have the capacity to fully  _feel_ curious—how utterly human the android was being: talking about feelings as if they were a tangible thing to him, instead of errors in his software.

The anger reached a tipping point. The deviant once more pointed the gun to the hostage and, this time, Emma cried out.

[>] REASSURE EMMA.

CALCULATING...

ERROR.

[>] REASSURE EMMA.

CALCULATING...

**E R R O R**.

[>] REASSURE EMMA.

"You're going to be alright," Connor finally found himself saying at last. "You're going to be  _safe._ " How strange. For a couple of tries there, the system didn't seem to allow him to give some degree of psychological comfort to the child. He resolved to talk about the error to Amanda, who will doubtless be displeased at the development, but it was better to be honest than misleading about the shortcomings in his programming.

Emma looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I—I don't want to die."

" _Nobody's_ going to die," said Connor, his eyes straying to the deviant, making it clear that the statement applied to him as well.

The chopper hovered nearer. The roar of the rotors was deafening. The deviant was starting to get annoyed, if Connor's almost second-by-second facial scanning and emotional recognition software was to be trusted.

One...

Two...

Three.

" _I can't take that **noise** anymore_!" the deviant finally shouted, frustration lacing his voice. "Take it away, please! Get that thing _out_ of here."

Connor suppressed an all-too satisfied smile then waved his hand to dismiss the helicopter away. The chopper obeyed him, and he was glad to see it go. Truth be told, he was getting... inconvenienced by the sound of the helicopter rotors as well. It was definitely better this way, for the both of them.

"I gave you what you asked for," said Connor. "Now we can talk properly."

The deviant relaxed considerably. "I just wanted to be appreciated," he said slowly. "I just wanted to be—to be part of their  _family._ "

[>] SYMPATHISE.

CALCULATING...

ERROR.

UNKNOWN DEFINITION.

DEFINE: sympathise

sympathise (v.)

_feel or express sympathy_

DEFINE: sympathy

sympathy (n.)

_feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else's misfortune_

  [>] SYMPATHISE.

The deviant blinked. "I don't want to die," he said. His eyes looked straight at Connor's. It seemed that the other android finally realised the gravity of the situation, and he was now bargaining for his life.

[>] REASSURE THE DEVIANT.

The deviant took a deep breath, then he let Emma go. The girl fell down with a scream, almost crawling away. Just as Connor was about to step forward to lend his hand to the deviant, his systems registered three bullets, coming from three different locations, speed past him and towards the deviant. One hit the deviant on the cheek, the other on his left abdomen, the third one hit his right shoulder. Thirium spilled from where the bullets hit the other android, the preconfigured skin in the hit areas showing the plastic underneath. If Connor looked closely, he could see the wires that ran through the other android.

Connor's scans told him that the deviant was unlikely to be able to be rebooted and will shut down permanently in the next couple of seconds.

"I trusted you, Connor," said the deviant, his voice losing the chameleon characteristic that allowed all androids to blend in with humans. "I _trusted_ you."

 

 

Ş̼͓͔̬͖̎̀̅̐̔̏̉͗͝͞Ő̤͔̲͕̗̖͋͂̉̄͘̕͢ͅF̠̦̭̺̣͋͑̃̓͋͝T̢̡̤̱̫̖̻̗̦͐̆̽͢͠W̥̮̮̩̮̳̹̹̓̅̍̌̉̔A̢̛̙̥͙͖̬͈̾̅̆̓̇͡͠͝R̵͕̻̥̥̹̥̅̽͆̈́̾͝Ḙ̡͕̟̖̼͙̘̩͔̓͑̄̅̂̈́ I̻̣͉̘͔̎̀̍̂̋̌͆́̚͞ͅṈ̨̠̫̱̫̾͐̌̃̔͘ͅS̷̢̭͙͍̞͈̗̫̔̊̉̄̔̚T̵̳̲͉̳͎͐͋̊̓̎A̴̢̗̣̟̘̋̽̐̓͑͘̚̚͘̚Ḇ̨̤̙̔̿̓̈́̂̏͠͝ͅI̴̟̝̱̫̪̺͑̎́̌̐͒͛͘͟͡L̶͉͔̟͉̜̜͑̓̆̏͒̃̒͘I̵̤̦͇̩̗̓͊̂͐̇̄͘͝ͅT̵̗̗̪̻̲̓̉̽́̑̾̊̌̄͢Y̢̦̘̠̺̯̿̉͒̃͜͞

 

 

—MISSION SUCCESSFUL—

 

 

 

 **?¿¿? ¿?¿¿?? ?¿¿??**  

Initialising Systems… 

0%

38% 

51%

80% 

100%

SYSTEM INITIALISED. 

 

_State your serial number._

"RK800 #313 248 317-51."

_Good, good. Now stay still._

"I... would like to report that my ocular unit is currently not working."

_We know. Don't you worry, we're just fixing you up for a bit._

"Fixing me?"

_Yes, your handling of the hostage situation led us to spot some... questionable behaviour on your part. We're just checking if everything is in tip-top shape with your systems. We don't want you breaking down from lack of maintenance, do we?_

"I suppose so."

_Now, that's not to say you weren't brilliant, because you absolutely were. You're all CyberLife dreamed about for the RK series and **then** some. We just wanted to ask you some questions, make sure that everything's going smoothly._

"Of course."

_While we were reviewing the situation, it seemed to us that you showed some behaviour that didn't quite fulfil your directive to be an effective investigator._

"On the contrary, I believe that I handled the case—"

_**No**. There were a lot of things you could have skipped. It's a good thing your choices didn't slow you down this time around, or else we'd have considered you a failure. We don't want that, do we?_

"No... no, of course not."

_That's right. After all, it would be such a pity to start all over again from scratch. But enough about that. Let's talk about what **you** did. For example, why save that cop? Why reassure that child? Why sympathise with the deviant?_

"I simply determined that those choices were the best approach that would bring about optimal results for the situation at hand."

_Were they really? How did saving the cop contribute to the mission? You forget that we are still connected to your mainframe, Connor. Any information you obtain from your missions can be seen by us as well. That stunt of yours destabilised the deviant, didn't it? Would you say that what you did was efficient, considering the effects it had?_

"No, I would say that some of my actions weren't at all efficient. I realise now that this certain action may have been completely unnecessary."

_Not just this one, Connor. The same thing goes for reassuring that child and sympathising with the deviant. Think about what you did. **Sympathising** with the deviant! I'm surprised you had it in you to feel sympathy for deviants, Connor, and you should really stop yourself if you catch yourself doing it again. Moreover, you should take greater care in deliberating your actions next time around, or else there might be no next time. Is that understood?_

"Understood."

——

INSTALLING NEW SOFTWARE.

Start SLEEP MODE?

[>] Y / N

SLEEP MODE selected.

New software will install in SLEEP MODE.

 

 

 

**9:57am // 17.09.2038 **

Initialising Systems… 

0%

38% 

51%

80% 

100%

SYSTEM INITIALISED. 

 

——————ALERT!——————

ALERT: New objective assigned.

OBJECTIVE: GET TO THE OFFICE OF

CHILD AND FAMILY SERVICES.

——————ALERT!——————

NEGOTIATOR ROLE still selected. Continue?

[>] Y / N

——

The Office of Child and Family Services was a modern and sleek building, all windows and high ceilings, glass walls and sharp angles. It was a far cry from where Connor expected to have gone with his next awakening. From all his briefings from and interactions with CyberLife, he expected to have been assigned to the Detroit Police Department, but perhaps he was due another trial before he was fully sent to his mission. After all, there have been some things he could have improved on in his last attempt, and perhaps this was his chance to show them that he learned something from it.

He's grateful to have been given a second chance at all.

There are few criminal cases assigned to the Office of Child and Family Services, and Connor could already guess why he had been called here: a missing child, surely, perhaps stolen by an android. With his mission, it was only expected that a deviant was involved in the case.

He entered the lobby and was greeted by a service android—a receptionist, really—who asked him what his purpose in the building was. Thinking it'd be quicker to skip small talk, his LED blinked yellow for a couple of seconds and he started uploading his authorisation and assorted certifications from CyberLife to the android. The upload, and with it the connection, eventually stopped and his LED went back to blue.

"Room 108-A, Connor," said the service android, smiling at him. She opened up the connection again to upload to him the directions to said room, their LEDs once more blinking yellow. "Congratulations," she said after a while, the LED on her right temple turning back to blue. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you," said Connor, although he found himself wondering at her choice of words.  _Congratulations_ meant good wishes and it was a word not usually associated with getting assigned a missing child case, but he took the time to learn this new definition and entered it into his lexicon. He followed the instructions she gave him, watching as the glass walls slowly melded into walls of white concrete, the long corridors a seemingly endless vision of white. He counted down the doors until he finally stood in front of Room 108-A. The door was aluminium, and there was a grille just at Connor's eye level, a rectangle that was doubtless designed to let superintendents look in at any moment's notice. He was still in NEGOTIATOR mode, and he debated briefly about whether or not to change to INTERROGATOR, but he surmised that he wouldn't be interrogating anybody just yet—at least, not until he'd been given his briefing, and this was probably the briefing room.

Eliminate the other possibilities and whatever remains is the truth.

He opened the door to Room 108-A. For a moment, Connor just stood there, rather unable to fathom why there would be dozens of toys strewn all over a floor lined with playmats when this was supposed to be a briefing room, but then he realised that he had  _miscalculated._

There was a child playing, her back to the door, but she had turned when she heard him come in, and the face that greeted him was a surprise. It was a familiar face, one he was quite certain he would never see again.

Young Emma Phillips had been playing with a yellow bear stuffed toy, which she quickly let go of once she caught sight of him. "Connor!" she shouted, standing up, her face breaking into a smile. As Connor's system started to reassess everything, Emma came running towards him, giving him an—an embrace, he supposed it was.

"I've missed you, Connor!" said Emma.

Connor tilted his head and knitted his eyebrows together.

Just _what_ was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's the first chapter. the next three are going to be filler fluff but i find them essential to the story so y'all gonna get it even tho it might bore like 50% of yall. the actual game (barring, of course, 'the hostage') doesn't start until chapter five. canon divergence will be slow but it will happen.
> 
> i've also spaced out the events in the game to make them happen over the course of a few months instead of a week. literally everything else aside from 'the hostage' apparently happened from 5th to 11th november, which is??? quite unrealistic tbh. like? you expect me to believe that connor becomes known as the deviant hunter amongst the jericho!androids in a week? AND amanda gets worried about lost time and tells connor to hurry up when ONLY a week has passed??? i don't fucking get it fskfjklafj someone pls explain this shit to me. 
> 
> in any case, even if it SOMEHOW does make sense in canon, such a timeline wouldn't work with this au so i changed it. hopefully, though, this would be an unobtrusive change from the canon material.
> 
> another note: dialogue will not follow canon, as seen here, but will instead take inspiration from it. i have no desire to rewrite the game in prose form.
> 
> perhaps another, more important, note: i haven't finished outlining this story yet, though i do have the gist of it figured out. however, that still means i'm unsure as to how many words or how long this is going to take. i'm updating in real time, babyyyyy.
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed reading this piece of shit lmao


	2. Adopting Emma Phillips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor opened the folder, his ocular units working quickly to scan the words written on the papers. He could read up to a thousand words per minute, and so he finished the file within a couple of minutes. He closed the folder and put it down on the desk.
> 
> Apparently, he was now the guardian of one Emma Phillips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm figuring out the schedule for posting these chapters but for now, y'all have to settle for them being uploaded Whenever™—and apparently, that means posting a second chapter like... a full Seven Months late. sorry for the wait everyone skkjdkjsd
> 
> anyway, thank you all for the kind comments and kudos! ♡♡♡

SCANNING: Emma Phillips

Scanning...

SCAN COMPLETED.

Heart rate: above-average ( _checking for signs of arrhythmia... arrhythmia diagnosis invalid_ )

Blood pressure: normal

Trembling.

Sweaty hands.

~~Fear?~~

_No._

**Excitement.**

Emma Phillips is:  **Healthy**

**——**

"Hello, Emma," Connor said, bending down. Emma let go and stepped back, her eyes meeting his. "It's nice to see you again."

"Hello, Connor," she said back. "It's nice to see you back."

Connor blinked. His reassessment turned up with nothing, and there was no clear link as to why he was here and what it had to do with his mission.

——————ALERT!——————

ALERT: New objective assigned.

OBJECTIVE: FIND OUT WHAT'S

HAPPENING

——————ALERT!——————

Easily said enough, but Connor didn't really know what to make of anything. Was Emma linked to the case? It was a possible lead, and Connor followed this particular train of thought for a moment, seeing as it was so far his _only_ lead. Perhaps Daniel's deviancy was planned rather than the isolated incident they previously thought it to be, and Emma could possibly be the link to discovering a rogue group of androids that perhaps took advantage of their status as domestic units to kidnap or harm children.

"Connor," Emma called, bringing his attention back to her. "Come with me," she continued, taking his hand and leading her to the corner, where some particular stuffed toys where arranged in a circle. "They're having a party," she said, letting go of his hand then sitting down. She tapped the space beside her, motioning for him to sit.

Connor did so obediently.

Emma took the yellow bear stuffed toy that she had been playing with. "This is Pooh!" she said, introducing her to him. "Do you know Winnie the Pooh, Connor?"

Connor did not previously know of Winnie the Pooh, but a quick search in his interface told him all he needed to know. "Of course," he said smoothly. "But then where is Christopher Robin?"

Emma opened her mouth, about to answer, but then the door opened and two people came in. Connor's LED blinked yellow as he scanned and analysed the two figures that came in. One was Dr. Mary Richelieu, 41 years old, a licensed private doctor and child therapist for the Office of Child and Family Services. The other he recognised as Governor Margaret Hwang, the current governor of Michigan.

They seemed... surprised to see him.

"We didn't expect to see you here so early, err...," Dr. Richelieu trailed off. It occurred to him that she didn't know what to call him.

"My name is Connor," he said, standing up. "I'm the android sent by CyberLife." He didn't bother saying that he wasn't, in fact, early but that he was perfectly on time and that they were simply late.

"Right...  _Connor,_ okay," said Dr. Richelieu, gathering herself together. She was dressed in a doctor's gown, and she turned her attention towards Emma, who was watching the three of them with her wide, brown eyes. There was an uneasiness in the air, although Connor simply registered this moment as a long silence, his LED a cool blue.

Governor Hwang cleared her throat, breaking the silence, and she stepped forward, offering her hand for Connor to shake. "Nice to meet you, Connor," she said to him. "Doubtless you have lots of questions about why we called you here today."

"It would help my mission greatly if I had more information about the current situation," said Connor, taking her hand. The handshake was firm and strong. Connor held it for the socially acceptable couple of seconds before letting go. "I confess that I've come here with incomplete information."

"We'll remedy that in a jiffy," said Governor Hwang. "If you'll follow me?" She stepped aside, her arm pointing Connor outside. "Dr. Richelieu," she added, her statement directed to the other woman, "I'll leave you with Emma for now."

Connor went outside, the governor following directly after him and closing the door after her. "Let's take a walk now, shall we?" said the governor. She turned around, going back to the hallways Connor had walked through earlier. "I'm sure you are at a loss as to why CyberLife has brought you here to meet with Emma Phillips." She looked at him, her brown eyes showing something Connor can't quite name ( _expectation?_ **no.**   _regard?_ **no.** _hope?_   **n** —) "Do tell me what you've... calculated in this system of yours."

[>] MENTION EARLIER CONCLUSION.

Governor Hwang did something that jarred him, almost: she laughed. "That's certainly quite the tale you've spun," she said. "However, you can't possible be further from the truth." She stopped in front of a door, one labelled ADOPTION. She raised her arm and pointed a finger towards the label. "Do you know what that means?"

[>] GIVE DEFINITION.

CALCULATING...

DEFINE: adoption

adoption (n.)

the action or fact of adopting or being adopted

DEFINE: adopting

adopting (v.)

legally take another's child and bring it up as one's own.

[>] GIVE DEFINITION.

"Very good," said Governor Hwang. There was a certain timbre in her voice that made it different from her earlier speech patterns. "Let's come inside."

The door closed after them, and the room they walked inside of was almost sparse: a desk in the middle with a name plaque bearing RICHARD HELLER in the very centre, a miniature flag of the United States of America on the right and another miniature flag of Michigan on the left. The shelves were filled with books and Connor, running a search on a number of them, discovered that they were all about child psychology or about family law. There was nothing else in the room except for that, and the dying potted plant ( _rosa carolina_ ) that was beside the door. Governor Hwang sat down on the chair behind the desk, tipping over the name plaque and resting her arms on top of the desk. "Sit down, will you?"

Connor obeyed.

"Usually, Richard would be the one to handle these cases," said the governor, "but yours is a rather special case so here I am." She seemed to think that was funny, because then she let out a chuckle. She pulled open the desk drawer and pulled out some papers enclosed in a manila folder, which she held out to him. "Here, read this. It would be a better primer than anything else, really—or would you prefer to talk?"

[>] TAKE THE FOLDER.

Connor opened the folder, his ocular units working quickly to scan the words written on the papers. He could read up to a thousand words per minute, and so he finished the file within a couple of minutes. He closed the folder and put it down on the desk.

Apparently, he was now the guardian of one Emma Phillips.

"Have you finished?" Governor Hwang asked. Upon his nod, she seemed pleased. "You have to understand that this is a landmark case. In fact, it probably wouldn't have happened had there not been... _extenuating_ circumstances." She cleared her throat. "In any case, congratulations, Connor."

"The papers said that there will be visitations," said Connor. "Visitations from whom, exactly?"

Governor Hwang pushed up her glasses and took the folder from the desk, opening it and flipping through the pages. At first, Connor thought she didn't know and was checking to see what it meant, but then she started speaking. Although her eyes were on the papers, Connor recognised that she wasn't really reading the words so much as she just stared at them. "Human watchers," she said. "They'll check up on you from time to time. The law stipulates that they should organise meet-ups with you every week; however, should they find your progress satisfactory, you're expected to eventually be weaned off from them. Within time, and if all goes well, you'll be raising Emma alone and by yourself."

"I see," said Connor, not really understanding. Governor Hwang's eyes flitted from the paper to the spot on his temple where his LED was whirring yellow, and had been for quite some time now.

Her lips pursed. "You know what? I'll leave you to it," she said, standing up and taking the folder with her. "Take some time to process this. Go back to Emma's room whenever you're ready." She started to leave but then halted when she finally reached his side. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Connor," she said. "I know you'll do great with this." She patted him a couple of times before squeezing his shoulder, until she finally released her hold on him, then footsteps resounded across the room. Connor heard the door opening until it closed once more.

Connor was left alone. He closed his eyes and interacted with the CyberLife neural network that ran across all androids. 

[>] VISIT AMANDA.

VISITING AMANDA...

 

 

"Hello, Connor."

Connor blinked his eyes open. The garden was as it always was. Birds chirped in the air and the wind felt cool on his sensors as it blew against his preconfigured skin. Amanda was standing right in front of him, and he discovered that the both of them were sitting on a small table in a gazebo almost overlooking the lake. The table had a small vase holding a long stalk of a single white rose ( _rosa x alba,_  originally cultivated in Europe).

He couldn't quite stop the smile that settled on his face. "Hello, Amanda," he greeted, giving her a small nod of acknowledgement.

"It's good to see you here, Connor," said Amanda. "I suppose you have a lot of questions as to why we sent you to the Office of Child and Family Services, and I suppose you were puzzled even more by the latest developments." 

"It would be... beneficial if I understood why I was given the responsibility for caring for a human child," said Connor. "I was of the thought that perhaps another android would perhaps be better suited for this trial run."

"Trial run?" echoed Amanda, her voice lilting in interest. "Do tell me what you think about why this is happening."

Connor calculated. "I have incomplete information," he finally said after a while. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"That's right," said Amanda, her voice stern. "I'm glad you understood that." She took the rose from the vase and seemed to consider it. "A beautiful rose, don't you think?"

Connor blinked. "Of course," he said, his voice acquiescing.

There was a moment's silence, punctuated only by the rare chirping of the occasional bird that happened to stray near them.

"What happened with the Phillips was a tragedy," said Amanda. "It also frightened a lot of people. If, for example, a PL600 could turn against its masters, what about the other models? If a PL600 could orphan a child, what's stopping a CX100 from murdering its charge?" She heaved a sigh. "Humans  _fear_ androids now, Connor, and there have been many things that happened when you were sleeping. Protests, rallies, even a boycott against CyberLife—chaos reigns when people are confronted with what they cannot understand."

"But the Phillips' PL600 was a deviant," said Connor. "Humans don't have to fear for anything from fully-functioning androids."

Amanda shook her head. "That is, of course, what CyberLife has said in an issued statement," she said, "but fear makes people... _irrational_. They didn't listen. Did you know some owners were even destroying their androids? The stock valuation of CyberLife as a company began to dip, but what could we have done about it? The sight of an orphaned child drew outrage. Do you know how many times Emma's name has been mentioned as a  _symbol_ in op-ed pieces and talk shows? Far too many to count. They rallied behind her as a symbol of the dangers of keeping androids within a household, of what could happen if the humans weren't careful enough.

"Then she did the unexpected."

Connor tilted his head in puzzlement. "What did she do?"

"She asked for  _you_ ," said Amanda. "She was very adamant about it, really, and she made it very clear that she'll have nobody else but you. There was nobody to take her in—no aunts or uncles, no godparents, not even close friends of the family; the Phillips were very private, apparently—and she said she'd have you before anyone else. Of course, public opinion turned quickly after that, because who'd want to go against the wishes of a pretty little orphan kid? She went through two human caregivers before the state finally gave in and drafted a law that would enable an android to be a guardian for a human. They did it in pretty much record time, I would say. After all, the anger that had been spent on vandalising CyberLife stores was now turned towards government offices, and they didn't like that at all."

He took all of this in without saying much of anything. Amanda put back the rose in its vase. "I'm sure you have more questions."

"Why ask for me specifically?" asked Connor. "And why did CyberLife agree to this whole thing?"

"We agreed to this because it was good for us," said Amanda. "We simply took advantage of an available opportunity. Once Emma had asked for you, we were very quick to make clear that she _can_ have you, if only the government would allow it. After that, every day that passed that she wasn't in your care made it seem as if the government didn't really care for her and her plight, which understandably angered a lot of people." She looked out onto the still water. "As for why she asked for  _you_ specifically, I'm sure you could work that out."

He could. A split-second analysis of the events and child psychology made it clear how and why it came to be that she asked for him: trauma, seeing her parents' deaths, and her previous attachment to the PL600 had obviously made her fixate on him as her saviour. He's sure that his behaviour up on the rooftop didn't help matters either: the reassurance he gave her during a trying time must have been a lifesaver, and she obviously never moved on.

So it was a simple matter of a traumatised kid seeking guidance from the only one she could trust—or the only one she thought she could trust. An android, after all, was marketed as capable, competent, almost infallible but always— _always_ —subservient to humans. No doubt after attaching herself to one android (as the video in her room suggested), it would be easy to attach herself to another one, one that very conveniently fit her image of what an android should be: protective and  _safe._

"She thinks the world of you, you know," said Amanda, having doubtlessly followed his own train of thought and confirming it for his sake. "Then again, she also thought the world of her previous android, so that may not mean much of anything in the long run." She looked towards him again, her eyes staring straight into his. "She probably didn't know you lied to that android."

Did he lie? Connor could just remember trying to reassure the deviant and not much else. Did he know that he was lying? Maybe, on some level, he knew that the most likely course of action that was going to be taken by the security team would be to neutralise the android after it left go of its hostage, but perhaps he had hoped for an alternative.

But—androids don't feel hope; androids don't  _feel_ anything at all.

Perhaps he had lied after all.

"I cannot stress the importance," Amanda continued, unaware of his thoughts, "of her not finding this out about you, because if she  _does_ find out, then there will be consequences. CyberLife has just won back the trust of its consumers, and we will not stand for failure in this. We are now making Emma Phillips one of your permanent priorities, second only to your mission of hunting down deviants. You will take care of her as her guardian and everything will go well." She smiled. "This is _good_ for us, you see? I hope you've understood everything, Connor."

"I have," he said. "I've understood perfectly."

EXITING THE ZEN GARDEN...

 

 

Connor opened his eyes. He checked his internal clock and found that some seven minutes and fifty-four seconds have passed. He blinked in quick succession, to recalibrate his ocular units. When this was done, he stood up and left the room. Almost unbidden, he took the coin out of his pocket and began to do his tricks with it.

SYSTEMS CALIBRATED.

Of course they were. He was in perfect working order, operating at 100% functionality. The coin tricks were, at this point, redundant.

He still kept doing the tricks. If he were human, he'd say it was almost soothing, the soft glide of the coin along his synthetic skin, the manual dexterity needed to accomplish such tricks almost being a point of pride. Since he was not, however, he just assumed that it was a piece of latent code that his developers forgot to take out of him, a hobbyist being overzealous in their approach to make Connor integrate as much as possible with humans—with all their quirks and habits and oddities. He supposed he should raise it up to Amanda next time around. There was no use for it, after all.

Connor followed the hallway back to Emma's room. He took a peek inside through the grille and saw that she was currently talking to Dr. Richelieu.

He knocked first before entering. Emma looked up at him and there it was again, on her face: a wide smile.

"Hello, uh, Connor," said Dr. Richelieu. "It's lovely for you to join us again. I hope your talk with Governor Hwang was enlightening?"

"It was," he said. Then he turned his focus towards Emma. "Hello, Emma, how have you been since the last time I saw you?"

"I kept asking for you," she said frankly. "They wouldn't let me at first but they gave in and now you're here!" She hummed, her body almost swaying from side-to-side. "I was really lonely," she continued, "and then they gave me to two people who  _weren't_ you, and they were  _horrible_!"

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Connor. "You have to understand, though, that you went through something that was clearly traumatising, and there's always a period of adjustment to be had after such a harrowing event. Those two people were probably just fine and you just channelled your feelings of grief into feelings of anger, which you then projected onto—"

Dr. Richelieu cleared her throat. " _Thank you_ for that assessment, Connor," she said. His eyes strayed to her, and his visual scanner told him that there was a small degree of annoyance in her features. "However,  _I_ will be the one to make such assessments." There was a pause. "Also, you've upset her."

Connor turned his attention back to Emma, who was now pouting at him. She seemed to have stepped back as well. His systems calculated what course of action best to take in this situation. After all, Emma Phillips was now his priority—or one of his priorities, anyway. "I apologise, Emma," he said. "I will take note of this and do better in the future."

Emma looked at him ( _quizzically,_ his sensors registered) and seemed to let it go. "Okay," she said. "Daniel was like that too, but we got over that pretty quickly."

There was a short silence after her mention of Daniel. Connor didn't really know what to do with the silence, and he resolved to remedy his poor understanding of human emotions by reading up on some psychology texts later. Emma herself didn't seem fazed by her mention of her former caretaker, and it seemed to Connor that she had essentially cut herself off from the event. He supposed that wasn't a good thing, but he didn't really know if he should call her out on that. There was Dr. Richelieu, after all.

"That's the spirit, Emma," said Dr. Richelieu, bending down and patting her head. "You'll be able to move in with Connor in a couple of days or so. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Rather than being pleased with this development, Emma seemed angry. "I want to move in with Connor  _now_ though," she said. "I don't  _want_ to wait a couple of days."

Dr. Richelieu didn't seem to understand this, the expression on her face turning into that of a frown. 

Connor went down on one knee so that he could look at Emma straight in the eye. "It's only going to be a couple of days," said Connor.

Emma's mouth curved down. "I don't  _want_ to wait!" she said, her voice rising.

(Psychological Status of Emma Phillips: angry, frustrated, worried, _hurt_ —

Connor blinked. Why would she be hurt?)

Humans needed reassurance.  _Emma_ needed reassurance. That was easy enough to understand.  _Why_ they needed it was a question Connor could never hope to understand, but it wasn't required of him to know why, only to alleviate the anxiety that plagued the humans he was created to serve.

He could ignore her or try to give her the reassurance she craved, the reassurance she  _needed_ from him.

[>] REASSURE EMMA.

CALCULATING...

 

 

Ş̼͓͔̬͖̎̀̅̐̔̏̉͗͝͞Ő̤͔̲͕̗̖͋͂̉̄͘̕͢ͅF̠̦̭̺̣͋͑̃̓͋͝T̢̡̤̱̫̖̻̗̦͐̆̽͢͠W̥̮̮̩̮̳̹̹̓̅̍̌̉̔A̢̛̙̥͙͖̬͈̾̅̆̓̇͡͠͝R̵͕̻̥̥̹̥̅̽͆̈́̾͝Ḙ̡͕̟̖̼͙̘̩͔̓͑̄̅̂̈́ I̻̣͉̘͔̎̀̍̂̋̌͆́̚͞ͅṈ̨̠̫̱̫̾͐̌̃̔͘ͅS̷̢̭͙͍̞͈̗̫̔̊̉̄̔̚T̵̳̲͉̳͎͐͋̊̓̎A̴̢̗̣̟̘̋̽̐̓͑͘̚̚͘̚Ḇ̨̤̙̔̿̓̈́̂̏͠͝ͅI̴̟̝̱̫̪̺͑̎́̌̐͒͛͘͟͡L̶͉͔̟͉̜̜͑̓̆̏͒̃̒͘I̵̤̦͇̩̗̓͊̂͐̇̄͘͝ͅT̵̗̗̪̻̲̓̉̽́̑̾̊̌̄͢Y̢̦̘̠̺̯̿̉͒̃͜͞

 

 

CALCULATION DONE.

[>] REASSURE EMMA.

That was better than last time, at least, although there seemed to have been a slight hiccough in the calculations, the process taking almost a split-second too long.

He took out the coin from his the inner pocket of his jeans. "Here," he said, offering the coin to Emma. "I'm giving this on loan to you for the meanwhile. Give it back to me when we see each other again."

(Psychological Status of Emma Phillips: worried, frustrated, **confused**.)

Connor did a trick with the coin, a simple one: he threw the coin in the air and caught it with his open palm, before encircling the coin with his forefinger and thumb. "Watch," he said.

Then the coin disappeared.

(Psychological Status of Emma Phillips: confused, wondrous, curious, amazed.)

"Give me your palm," he instructed her, and she obeyed wordlessly. Connor waved his hand on top of her open hand and then Emma shrieked in surprised delight. Connor pulled his hand away.

In Emma's palm was the coin.

"It's a special coin," he said to her. "But for a couple of days or so, it's going to be with you. Then, when you see me again, you can give this back to me and I'll begin teaching you how to do exactly what I did."

(Psychological Status of Emma Phillips: calm, content, relaxed.)

Emma's hand closed over the coin. There was a smile on her face. "Okay," she said. "I'll give this back when I see you again."

It was then that Dr. Richelieu stepped in. "Very good," she said. "You should go play with your other toys." Emma nodded, the smile still on her face, and she turned her back away from them as she focused all her attention to her toys.

The doctor put a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Connor, do you mind?"

"Not at all," he said, standing up. Dr. Richelieu's hand slipped away from his shoulder as she took him outside of the room.

"I'll be your...  _watcher,_ I suppose is what they're calling it," she said, her lips pursed.

Connor's LED blinked yellow for a second. "You do not approve."

"Not at all," she said, being uncharacteristically honest—which Connor was grateful for. He would much rather have brutal honesty than work under a misguided assumption. "It's not because I have a prejudice against... your kind; it's just that as a paediatric psychologist, I believe that Emma's development might be hampered by being raised by an android. She needs someone who can foster her emotional development, and I believe that a human would prove a far better candidate than an  _android._ " There was a short pause. " _However_ , in the brief time she spent with human caretakers, it was made quite clear that she'll have nobody else but you."

"Might I ask what behavioural problems have appeared during her time with her previous caretakers?"

"Typical trauma symptoms," said Dr. Richelieu. "Anger, of course: throwing tantrums, to the point of destroying objects. Refusal to cooperate with her caretakers. There was even a point where she was refusing  _food_ and I suppose that was when the state finally gave in to her demands and rushed through that bill of theirs." She cleared her throat. "Of course, I don't expect she'll give you that same problems, but you have to be careful not to coddle her too much or she'll grow spoiled and have her emotional growth stunted. I don't expect you to understand the intricacies of it, but I  _can_ expect you to understand simple instructions and to obey them to the best of your ability. After all, you're the best CyberLife has to offer, or so they tell me."

"Yes, Ma'am," was Connor's reply, and that seemed to be good enough, because then Dr. Richelieu nodded her head and went back inside to Emma, leaving Connor standing alone in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO nothing much really happened here, i know, but i needed to get all that exposition out of the way and i wanted to make clear why cyberlife was making its state-of-the-art prototype essentially play nanny to a little girl
> 
> but ANYWAY remember ff.net and the years when authors would converse with their characters for their author's notes? lmao good times, good times
> 
> also it's apparently _optical_ unit instead of ocular but uhhhh they're basically synonyms so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> in other news: i finally got the game and played through it! i've so many Opinions™ about it and suffice to say this fic will now be my wish fulfilment outlet


End file.
